


Darling: a Between the Lines fic

by The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff



Series: Between the Lines [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: & also after your dumbass bf comes out in the worst way at Xmas dinner, Blow Jobs, Bone Apple Tea, Denial of Feelings, Dev Chaos Demon Grimm & Niall Dreamboat Sheridan, Feelings, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Here’s what happens after years of subliminal sexual tension, Idiots in Love, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mr & Mrs Grimm are apparently incredibly deep sleepers, Porn with Feelings, The DeNiall fic absolutely none of y’all asked for, but also the one I absolutely needed to expel from my frontal lobe, have finally gotten their shit together but only like...marginally, i was about to say all the jobs but there’s no rimming so that would’ve been a lie, not really just wanted to throw that one in there for the pun factor, references to hypothetical Star Wars kinks, that moment when your boyf interrupts your star wars marathon to fuck you for the first time?, that’s what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23298208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff
Summary: Tensions from the last few days are settling. Dev watchesEmpireto distract himself from drowning in embarrassment. Niall lights a match.To be read in tandem with chapter 18 of my fic,Between the Lines. (Probably best to read the chapter first.)Or by itself if you want, I’m not the boss of y’all.>>>“I've read him all wrong.”
Relationships: Dev/Niall (Simon Snow)
Series: Between the Lines [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1464463
Comments: 38
Kudos: 173





	Darling: a Between the Lines fic

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all...IDK how we got here.
> 
> Listen, last May I set out to write a little bookshop AU, & now here we are nearly a year later. I’m still writing that fic, & two idiots who were never supposed to be together...are together. Because I’ve spent the last 10 months with them, & now they have a hold on my heart almost as much as Simon & Baz do. (Not quite as much. Never quite as much. But a significant hold nonetheless.) 
> 
> BTL is only from Simon & Baz’s POVs, & at this point I feel it’s silly to change that. (Maybe it’s because I don’t like change? But it seems odd to introduce two new POVs 150k in. I’m not George RR Martin.) (I’m thinking I’ll let Dev & Niall have their own POVs in BTL 2, but that’s a ways away.) And also the main fic is rated M, & this...couldn’t be. I needed to return to my filthy roots, just for a mo. 
> 
> I was working on chapter 18 a few weeks back (I worked on chapter 18 for about a month) when one day I was driving to work & just had this very clear vision of Niall very vehemently telling Dev to shut up & then kissing him very hard. And then...I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So I did what I always do when I can’t get something out of my head—I wrote it.
> 
> Dev & Niall fully took over my life for a week. Those of y’all who follow me on Tumblr know this a;dlfjds;f they’re literally all I talked about. For a _week_. And this fic was born.
> 
> Have you made it this far? Okay, so...I think it’s probably best to read this one after reading chapter 18. Technically it happens about 2/3 of the way through, maybe? You’ll know once you’ve read it. 
> 
> Alright, I’ll stop yammering. Let’s do this thing.

**NIALL**

I need to stop showing up unannounced at other people’s houses before it becomes a habit. 

But the other night was important, and this is important, too. And _God,_ I probably should’ve waited until next week when we’re back at home. When we’ve more privacy than a locked door. 

I don’t feel like I can. I feel like I might literally explode if I wait any longer. Or I’ll lose my nerve. Probably more the latter than anything else.

My heart’s already pounding as Dev leads the way up the stairs. The stairs I’ve walked up probably at least a million times since we were kids.

And I’m thinking that it’s always been this way. That there’s always been _something_ there when we’re alone. That feeling in my belly like everything’s upside-down. It’s ridiculous that I didn’t put the pieces together sooner. 

I guess I just didn’t want to see it. Or maybe I just couldn’t. I don’t know. 

The telly’s on in his bedroom when we get here, paused. 

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I whisper. 

“Darling, I’ve seen this film upwards of a thousand times,” he says. I look closer and see the still—Luke with Yoda on his back as he runs through the jungle, in training—and I’m not sure whether it’s better or worse that I’ve barged in during Dev’s favourite film. Probably down to one of his favourite scenes, too.

“You’re watching _Star Wars,_ ” I say. Unnecessarily. Maybe to buy some time. 

“Yeah, mate; it’s my emotional support film.” He sighs and drags his hand through his hair. I wonder—not for the first time—how long I’ve wanted to do that for him. “I’m marathoning.” 

I take a seat on the edge of his bed, and it dips when he follows suit. “How are you?” I ask. “I mean...” We’ve talked. I think he’s embarrassed about what happened at Christmas. I suppose I would be too if I’d said the things he did at dinner, but Dev’s a doer, not a thinker. And he was drunk. God knows I’ve said some stupid shit while I’ve been pissed. And done stupid shit. Getting together with Philippa for one; that’s at the top of the list. 

“Oh. Y’know.” He stares at the telly, his olive skin glowing in the dark. And then he sets his hand overtop of mine. I fight the urge to pull away. I think it’ll get better, with time. It has to, and the only way is to face it. 

“It’s over with,” I tell him. “It’s done.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Yep.” Then he looks at me, eyes soft. “Did you show up this late to ask me how I’m doing? Because—”

I shut him up with my mouth. It really is the most efficient way. For a minute or two, at least. He’s talking again as soon as I let go.

“Did you show up this late just to _snog_ me—?”

“I thought maybe you’d appreciate the company.” I nod my head towards the telly. “For your marathon.”

His face is so close, and he’s jutting his chin towards me, calling my bluff. “You did not.” 

“Well, I’m here now,” I say. “Let’s watch bloody _Star Wars._ ” Fuck, that’s not what I meant to say at all. But he’s grinning, and pecking me loudly on the cheek, and moving back to lie down, and—

Okay, maybe it’ll be easier to take this from here, then. 

I bend to untie my boots and contemplate all my life choices. 

I can feel him watching me. “See something interesting?” I ask. I keep staring at the floor. And at my boots. At my hands shaking as I loosen the laces. 

“Have I ever told you how fucking fit you are?” he says. “I’ve been thinking about your shoulders for probably my entire life.” 

I look at him as I laugh. He’s smiling at me with his tongue caught between his teeth. 

Fucking hell, I’ve no idea how we got here. 

“Two completely oblivious arseholes, aren’t we?” I say. 

And then I toe my boots off.

And turn to crawl up onto his bed. 

He’s lying there, still in his jeans and a sweatshirt. I wonder if he put the jeans on just for my benefit, after I texted him. He’s not the sort to lounge around with trousers on. 

I don’t have far to crawl, and the sounds the mattress is making under my hands and knees feel like they’re echoing all the way down my spine. And Dev…

I think maybe he’s caught on. Or he’s starting to catch on. 

He pushes the remote away as I hold myself over him, his eyes searching my face (and, I think, my shoulders). “Darling,” he starts, and he’s fucking called me that for years now but it still feels new and different and terrifying. “What’re you—”

“Shut up,” I say, and I push my face into his.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185045378@N05/49694838642/in/dateposted-public/)

**DEV**

He’s never kissed me this hard. Or this hot. 

The whole thing's so fucking surprising that I wonder if I'm dreaming again.

I can feel him hard in his jeans as he rocks against me, and I can barely fucking stand it. I can't believe I'm going to die like this: with my boyfriend dry-humping me while fucking _Empire’s_ paused on the telly. With Luke and Yoda literally staring at us. This is too bloody on-brand, at least for me.

Not that I'm complaining.

 _Jesus,_ I'm so far from complaining. Complaining's nowhere close to being on the table.

Niall's stubble keeps scratching me, and I _like_ it, and if there was any question left about my sexuality it's flown straight out the window at this point. (Ha. Straight. What a laugh.)

He lets out a soft noise against my mouth, and I push my hips up against him, moaning back. Quietly. _Fuck,_ when we get back home to Watford...if we could do this in my dorm, or in his…

He's no idea how loud I can be.

He's panting when he pulls away, and even then he doesn't go far. His lips are practically catching on mine when he says, "Turn that off, will you?"

"What?"

"The film. Too much light."

Ah. Oh. 

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous at all to see... everything. But it sounds to me like he doesn't want to see at all.

"Is it me?" I ask. (I almost don't.)

"I'd just...rather it be dark."

"Darling—”

"Just this time," he says.

Just this time. 

I grope around for the remote while he keeps on kissing me. My other hand ends up under his sweatshirt, up the back. The feel of his muscle shifting beneath my palm's enough to make another noise slip out of me.

Fuck, I sort of wish he’d waited till next week, when my parents aren’t just downstairs. But also I don’t. I _don’t._

The television goes out just as he lets go of my mouth and sits up on top of me. My eyes are adjusting to the dark, and I can barely see his movement, but—

_That._

That noise...that was a zipper coming undone, fuck me. 

We should’ve left the telly on, just for the sound. Just to have some bloody _cover._ Not that anyone’s awake. It was near two in the morning when I let him in. 

I swallow and reach for Niall in the dark. He’s got such strong thighs, and they’re beneath my hands and his jeans. I trace the creases with my fingers, and hear his breath catching up above me. 

My heart’s pounding in my chest and my belly and my cock. 

This is really fucking happening. But we’re frozen, the two of us, just staring at each other. At least I think we are; I’m just starting to make him out in the black. 

And then he’s shifting, his hips moving against me as he pulls off his sweatshirt and his undershirt in one go. I think I actually fucking whimper, which is ridiculous. 

I wish I could see him. All of him. But also I think I might explode if I could. So this is probably best for now—

His fingers are fumbling with the button on my jeans. Jesus _fuck, Niall’s trying to undo my trousers._

My hips are pushing up against his hands, against his _everything._ Because I can’t help it. Because I’m trying to help him get my jeans off, maybe. Because this is actually happening. 

I should’ve just put on some fucking joggers when he texted me. That’d be easy enough. Drawstring and done. 

He gets the zip down, anyway, his knuckles brushing up against my cock as he does, and I can’t decide if it’s too much or not enough. I can barely fucking _think—_

He doesn’t give me time to think. Just falls back on top of me and opens my mouth with his tongue as his hands start crawling underneath the hem of my sweatshirt. 

He’s going to kill me. 

Niall’s shirtless in my bed, and we’re both hard, and our trousers are open, and he’s rolling his hips against me and there’s absolutely no way in hell I’m making it out of this alive. Or without coming in my pants. 

“ _Niall_ ,” I manage when he gives me the chance. He’s started mouthing at my neck and at my collar, and his hands are everywhere except below the belt. Not that I’m wearing a belt, but. “Hey—oh, _fuck—darling—_ ”

He stops what he’s doing, his face hovering just above mine instead, his long fringe falling against my forehead, tickling me. Even _that_ manages to get me going. Bloody hell. “Shut. Up,” he whispers. Sort of menacingly. Which _also_ gets me going. 

“But—”

"Shut _up,_ Dev."

I'm going to have a burn on my face from the roughness of his stubble scratching me. And I don't _care._

I've never been kissed so hard in my life.

I could have this. I could have him. 

_Fuck._

I pull away—as best I can with my head against a pillow, anyway—and he follows, but I stop him with a hand on his chest. His _naked_ chest. "Woah, woah-w-w- _wait._ " It kills me to stop it, it really does. _But._ "Are you sure about all this? _Don't_ tell me to shut it—”

"Yeah," he says. He's so _quiet,_ but I hear him. "Yeah, I'm sure."

“Okay. Okay. Um.” I huff a laugh. Which probably isn’t the best thing to do in bed, especially with a very, _very_ fit bloke pressed against me. 

A bloke I think I…

Fuck. 

“Okay,” I try again. “As hot as all this is...maybe stop attacking me. Just for a mo. Yeah?” 

He breathes out. And maybe nods; it’s still a bit hard to see. 

And then I start to lift myself up to sitting, and Niall’s sat in my lap, his knees bracketing my hips, his strong arms around my shoulders, and I think I might burst. 

Feelings are so fucking wild, and I’ve never felt so many of them. 

  
  


**NIALL**

Our clothes are on the floor. Tossed aside on the bed. Who knows where, really, in the dark. 

We’ve still got our pants on. And Dev’s sat in my lap, now, holding tight to my shoulders as he grinds down against me. 

It’s still a little strange, and still a little scary. But it’s not as strange or as scary as I’ve made it out to be in my head. 

He’s good with his hips, which isn’t surprising at all. I have to keep tamping down the jealousy rising in my belly, because what’s there to be jealous of? He’s with me now…

I’m with a boy. A man. And I think I’ve wanted this for a while. I think I was pretending not to see it. 

My eyes are closed, and he’s trailing his lips along my neck as I tighten my arms around his waist. He’s lean, and I can feel every one of his muscles working together beneath his skin. 

I know what Dev looks like without a shirt. I’ve seen him in swim trunks before. We’ve changed clothes in front of each other before. And I’ve felt him hard against me before tonight, a few times. A few times where I was afraid of how much I liked it, like the other night in my car. Off the road...

But I’ve never seen him naked. 

We’ve still got our pants on, and his breath is coming hot against my neck and my collar and my shoulder.

And then I hear him say _darling_ in my ear again, and my stomach flips. I think it’s been flipping over and over again for years. 

He says something else, but I don’t hear it. Not properly, anyway.

I nudge his head with mine. “Hm?” 

“Said _can I touch you_?” 

I nod, and figure he can feel it well enough. 

He must, because one hand's trailing down between us until he's rubbing his knuckles against me through my boxer-briefs.

"Holy fucking shit," he breathes in my ear. "What the fuck."

" _What._ "

"Holy good god _damn_ —"

"Oh my fucking God, shut _up._ "

" _You've never once mentioned_ —"

" _What_ —"

" _It's bloody huge._ "

"You're not helping anything at all."

" _What the fuck_ —agh!" 

I yank his head back by the hair. And then I kiss him. Partly to shut him up. Mostly because I want to, _Jesus,_ how fucking absurd.

He doesn’t shut up. He stops _talking,_ of course, but now he’s panting and groaning into my mouth while he rubs the heel of his hand along my erection and I can’t believe I’ve _done this._ Any of it. All of it…

But it’s good. 

It’s good, and I’m starting to think about touching him, too. 

My breath catches when Dev takes my bottom lip between his teeth. No one’s ever _bitten_ me during a kiss before, not even him.

Leave it to Dev, really. He nips and tugs gently until my lip falls away from his mouth, and I finally work up the nerve to open my eyes.

It’s still dark in here, but there’s a bit of moonlight coming in through the window, and my eyes have adjusted enough to see him looking back at me. His gaze hooded, his own bottom lip caught between his teeth now as he…

As he…

“S’that good, darling?” he says, and I’m glad it’s dark enough that he can’t see me blush.

“Shut _up_ , Dev.” Even saying his _name_ while we do this…

Jesus. _Jesus._

I’m trying to keep quiet. But I still whine when he slips his hand into my pants, and again when he goes to suck a bruise beneath my ear. 

I nuzzle my face against his as he goes, and he hums against my neck before licking the vibration away. One of his arms still draped around my shoulders. His skin against mine in so many places...

It’s good. It’s _good…_

And then there’s his breath in my ear, hot and humid, and then his fucking teeth again—

And then—

And _then—_

“Let me,” he whispers. “Fuck, let me blow you. Please.” 

I swallow my nerves and tighten my arms around his waist, and he somehow manages to grind down against me, panting as he does. His long fingers are wrapped around me, and his hand is warm, and I've got so many feelings boiling over inside me that I'm not sure what to do with myself.

First I let out a noise right next to his ear, which only makes him sigh in mine. And then I say, "Are you. You said _please._ "

“Yeah,” he says, quiet and breathy in the dark. “Yeah, so what’s it gonna be, darling?” 

Breathe. Two. Three. Four…

“Okay.” 

  
  


**DEV**

_Okay, you've got this, Dev. You've never had any complaints._

Yeah, well. You've never had a dick in your mouth before, either.

Right. _Right._

I lift myself to my knees, backing off of Niall’s lap ( _God,_ I want to spend forever and a fucking day in Niall’s lap), pulling my hand out of his pants…

Where I’ve just been touching him. For the first time. _Finally._

I still can’t get over the size of his cock. Like, where the fuck has he been hiding that? And how’s my jaw supposed to manage?

I’ll make it fucking manage, that’s how. 

“Back you go, love,” I tell him, motioning for him to lie back against my pillows. I watch the muscle in his shoulders shifting as he pulls himself backwards, and I think I could probably get myself off just by the sight of that. He could watch me do it…

He watches me now as I reach down and palm myself through my pants at the thought, his belly and chest rising, his eyes roving over me. Taking me in as best he can with what little light we’ve got. Bloody hell.

Okay. _Okay…_

I nod in the general vicinity of his lower half. And his dick. “Take your pants off for me?” 

He tilts his head, and he looks so fucking adorable I think I might actually explode. (Can people just explode on a whim? Not that this is a whim. Niall about to be naked in front of me is deffo at the top of the list of explosion-worthy events.)

“Giving orders now?” he asks, and something tingles down my spine at the thought of him ordering _me_ around in bed, so I shelve that for later exploration. 

“Either you do it or I’ll do it for you, darling,” I tell him. “I’ll drag them down with my teeth if you’d like.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Would you?”

“Anything for you.” 

“Maybe next time,” he says, and I’m still trying to process the fact that _yeah,_ _there’s going to be a next time_ , when he hooks his fingers in his waistband and starts to push his pants down and _fuck me sideways._ Fuck me into next bloody _Wednesday._

“You’re bloody phenomenal,” I whisper. Maybe it’d sound more sincere if I wasn’t pressing my own cock into my hand just now, but fuck knows I mean it. 

“ _Phenomenal,_ ” he repeats.

“Yes, fuck, I’m serious.” I’m shuffling forward, now, and he’s looking at me like he can’t decide whether he’s afraid or turned on. I suppose he probably can’t, but that’s alright. 

I’m going to make him forget his nerves. I’m going to suck him off until he can’t help but thrust into my mouth. 

Hopefully, anyway. The whole...never having sucked cock before might be a bit of a barrier. But nothing’s impossible when you’re determined. 

I drop to my hands, crawling between his legs and up the rest of his body—his ridiculously fit fucking body—hovering over him, then. Looking down. Watching his lovely brown eyes move around my face as he brings both his hands up to stroke along my sides. 

And then I drop down to kiss him, hard and rough and _God,_ his mouth. When we hit a rhythm, it’s like nothing else. Kissing. Sex. None of it’s ever felt like _this._

I nip at his bottom lip again as I pull away. It’s a good move, when you do it right, and I’m not modest: I’m fantastic at it. It takes him by surprise, I think, but I think he likes it, too. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” I say as I start shuffling back, “There’s a time and a place for teeth.”

“If you bite my prick, I swear— _holy_ —” 

I’ve never had a cock in my mouth. Not till now. But I know well enough how I like to be touched. And I know how Niall likes to be kissed. And closing my lips around his crown and then sliding them over it, just _so_ , slowly, _slowly..._

A great first step, as it turns out.

“What was that?” I ask once I’ve pulled off. He’s looking down at me, and his cock’s in my face, and I give him one long, lengthy stroke just to see what his face does when I do it. 

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

I wink at him, just to get a rise. Then I nip at the crease of his thigh, and he jumps before melting back into the mattress with a sigh. I try sucking gently, just to see if I can get another sound out of him.

I do, and then again when I stroke him at the same time.

I press myself against the bed just for some fucking relief. And then I flatten my tongue against his cock, and I lick. And when I take him in my mouth, _God_ —

" _Mnph._ Fuck. _Fuck,_ D."

I've never had any complaints. But I've also never had anyone be so _vocal_ before, even in muffled whispers.

It only spurs me on.

  
  


**NIALL**

Dev is acting like some sort of animal while he sucks me off, which isn't surprising at all when I actually think about it.

I can feel his spit dripping down my prick and pooling between my skin and his hand.

He's absolutely savage, and I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life.

I've never been loud during sex. Not that I've had a ton of it. But the way his mouth and his hand are moving on me, and over me— _through_ me, practically—has me worried that I'll let something slip on accident.

Mostly I lie here with my mouth open dumbly at the ceiling. Sighing sometimes, my breath coming heavy. And sometimes—

"Oh _yeah,_ babe; that's _good_ —"

He hollows his cheeks, and it's work not to follow him with my hips as he pulls off.

" _Babe_?" he repeats. He sounds like he's quirking an eyebrow at me, a Grimm specialty.

I think my chest and my face are burning up, but everything was already burning, anyway. It's hard to tell what's new. "Er. Yeah. Too much—?"

"I'll just need to hear it a few more times, darling," he says, and the cocky bastard gives me one long, firm stroke before I can even think of a response. "Y'know. To get used to it." And then he dips his head again, and sucks at my crown, and _fuck,_ I'm already getting close to the edge. Ridiculous.

I let my eyes fall closed, let myself enjoy it. The warm wetness of his mouth. The feel of his hand around me. The way his bed is rocking slightly with the motion of his hips against the mattress. 

I’m thinking about how I can avoid telling him how good it is later just to keep from fanning his ego, but then he tries to take me deep and I forget everything.

Everything, that is, except for the sound of him gagging loudly and rather disturbingly not even a moment later. 

I can't help but laugh at him. He's laughing, too, first around my prick, and more when he pulls off. A sort of cough-laugh hybrid that looks so good on his stupid face that it's giving me bloody shortness of breath.

"If I'd've known this was the way to properly shut you up—"

" _Fuck_ ," he giggles. "Fuck I need to learn to deep-throat."

He's so incredibly obnoxious. I hate how much I like it.

"I'm here for you to practice," I say, because he's making me stupid.

I can see his teeth glinting in the dark as he grins at me. "Good thing for both of us," he says, then he gets back to it, and I'm on the verge of losing my mind. If I've not already lost it.

I've already lost it, who am I kidding.

My hand is in his hair before I can stop myself, and when I give it a tug, he moans around me.

And there go my hips. He's practically growling as I move against his mouth. Holy fucking—

" _D.,_ " I hiss through my teeth, because it's about the only thing I can do. He just groans some more, and the vibration has me burning. 

I give his hair a half-hearted tug. "You might wanna…" Fuck, I want to come in his mouth. But it's not exactly the politest thing to do without asking.

He just moves harder against me, and faster, and I'm moving against him, too. I can't stop it. 

"I'm gonna—" I try.

"M _hm,_ " I hear, and then I realize he _wants_ it, fuck me.

My head falls back, and I make a noise, and I try not to pull his hair out as I'm finally thrown overboard. As I completely lose it. As I come in Dev's mouth and down his throat and as he makes the most beautiful, debauched fucking noise around my prick. A quiet one, but a bloody good one all the same. 

" _Come here,_ " I pant, pulling at his hair again because I think he _likes_ it. (God knows _I_ do.)

And then he's on me. I've no idea how he got up here so fast, but he's on me, taking me by the back of my neck to pull my mouth up to his.

One of my hands is in his hair again. And I'm tasting myself as he dips his tongue into my mouth. I press my palm against the back of his head to bring him closer. 

I can feel him hard against me through the fabric of his pants—

_Why the fuck is he still wearing pants?_

I let go of his mouth. "Why the fuck are you still wearing pants?"

The bastard grins down at me. His hair's everywhere; he looks completely and utterly mad. "You didn't take them off me, darling," he pants. He's out of breath; I can feel his belly heaving against mine.

He yelps as I flip us over in one rough move, but when I pull back to look at him, he's smiling. Tongue caught between his teeth.

I think about what that tongue's just been doing to me. 

"What do you want?" I ask. Because I'm still a little nervous. And even though I _want_ to give him what he just gave me...

I should just rip the plaster off. Or his pants, rather.

"I'm almost there," he breathes. "I don't bloody care how you do it. Just—"

I smack his hand away when he tries to palm himself. Because I don't want him making himself come on accident. Because _I_ need to do it.

I jerk my chin downwards. "Off they go, then."

He's giving me the shittiest shit-eating grin I've ever seen, which is honestly saying something. "Mm, yeah, darling; talk dirty to me—"

"Shut up and take your bloody pants off," I say, and then I go for it, shoving my arm down between us until I’ve got his prick in my hand with just that bit of fabric left between us. 

It’s a familiar feeling, but it’s so _different,_ too. I’m not sure what’s better: the fact I’ve finally worked up the nerve to touch him, or the look of complete shock he’s giving me right now. As if this wasn’t the logical progression of things…

I give him a gentle squeeze, and he whimpers. It... _does_ something for me. 

And then I let him go, reveling in the gasp I draw from him when I get my hand down beneath his waistband. And then around the length of him. He gasps again when I give him an experimental pull.

“You’re throwing me really mixed signals just now,” he whispers. 

The only answer I give him is another stroke. And another. He’s so _hot_ in my hand, and he’s leaking precome, and I’ve got about a million different emotions fighting for dominance inside me at the moment. 

I pick one to focus on—this actual visceral _need_ to know what he looks like when he comes—and I go with that. 

“You’re gonna make me fucking come in my pants, aren’t you?” he whines. He’s rocking against my hand, searching for friction, and I’m both completely willing and reluctant to give it to him. 

“I am,” I say. It surprises me. “Unless you take them off. Your choice.” 

**DEV**

My brain’s at least three steps ahead of me as I rush to get out of my pants. 

And three steps behind; I'm still reeling from him coming and pulling my hair and calling me _babe_. And then he goes and does _this_? What _is_ this?

A bloody dream come true. A dream I didn't even know I _had._

Niall rolls to my side while I kick my boxer-briefs off, and as soon as they're gone he's—

Wrapping his hand around me right now, holy _shit_ ; he's touching me _fuckingfuckmegoddamnit_. 

He’s propped on his side next to me, looking down at me, his fringe hanging messily over his forehead and in his eyes. I can just make out his blown pupils in the dark. 

I bite down a groan as I take hold of his face. "Fuck, _please_ kiss m—"

And then his mouth's on mine. It's the only way I'll be quiet. Or quiet enough not to be heard. 

Here I was thinking that the way he kissed me at the start of all this was intense, but apparently I was wrong. I've never been so fucking thrilled to be wrong. 

We're snogging, and it's rough. It's deep. It's dirty. It's _hungry._ And I can't get enough of it. The taste of his tongue is making me roll my hips against his hand.

 _Fuck,_ his hands. I've always liked them. I think I've probably imagined this exact scenario at some point. More than once. It'd be a good one to get off to. 

I’m fucking myself into his fist, and he’s letting me. It’s too much. It’s so much that I have to stop kissing him just to keep our teeth from knocking together.

I'm biting my bottom lip so hard it's a miracle I don't draw blood. 

"Gonna come," I breathe at him. "GonnacomeI'mgonnacom— _hm_ —"

He's crushed his mouth to mine again, and it's good. Everything's so fucking goddamn _good_ —

If he weren't kissing me, I'd be gasping.

I moan into his mouth instead, and tighten my hold around his neck, and push my hips up into his hand and _holyfucking_ —

I could cry, it's actually that good. And he strokes me through it, never giving a bloody inch. He only goes harder when I start to pulse in his fist, like he's trying to sort out just how much I can handle before my own orgasm breaks me.

It’s the fucking hottest thing, and it’s happening to _me._

I have to look down. _That_ might actually break me, seeing myself in his grip, my cock still leaking come as he gives me one last long, slow pull.

He rubs his thumb over the head before he lets go of me. It makes my hips jump. 

And then I slump down into the bed, and he flops down next to me, and we both just lie here.

  
  


**NIALL**

"Where're my pants?" Dev says after a moment.

I turn my head to look at him, and also to _give_ him a look. "The fuck should I know?"

He snorts, and starts to laugh—quietly, little huffs of air and small noises in his throat—and I can't help but join him. 

He manages to find them with one of his feet, in any case, dragging them up the bed and then rubbing them over his belly and his cock to mop up his come. 

" _Really_?" I say.

"Says the man who literally just threatened to make me come in my pants,” he says, and I feel myself blush. “They'll be washed." Then he balls them up and tosses them off...somewhere in the dark. Maybe towards his hamper, more likely onto the floor. "Well sustainable," he adds, and then starts laughing at his own joke. 

He has me smiling again, and laughing, still trying to keep quiet. He takes my hand loosely in his, and I wipe my other off on his sheets. 

_I just had Dev's come between my fingers._

"Cannot believe you came to my parents' house in the middle of the night just to fuck me."

_Me neither._

"Would you call that _fucking_?" I ask. 

"I made you come, you made me come…sounds like fucking."

_And was that it?_

“Please tell me that was the best bloody blowjob you’ve ever had.”

I shake my head. “You’re a menace.”

“ _Please,_ darling; for my dignity—”

“Never before has something sucked me off with such vigorous enthusiasm."

" _Something?!_ "

I snort as he rolls into me, and again as he gives me an affronted shove. I don’t start laughing until he’s fully on top of me, and we’re wrestling naked— _fuck,_ we’re wrestling _naked_ —and before I know it we’re kissing again. I don’t know if I pulled him down to me or if he dropped down himself, but his face is in my hands, and he’s holding onto my face, too, and I feel so…

So _much._

I can feel Dev’s lips curling into a smile against mine. And then he’s humming against my mouth, and pulling back, and I wonder why he’s stopped. 

He looks down at me then, his eyes soft, his hair falling in my face, his smile crooked and a little bit cocky. 

I wonder how long I’ve wanted to kiss that smile off his face. I wonder _how_ it took me so long. 

  
  


**DEV**

I roll off of him before I end up getting hard again. 

Maybe he wouldn’t mind, and maybe my refractory period’s impressive. But I’d still like a bit of a cuddle first. Especially after everything.

I get settled on my side, facing him, propping my head in one hand. “So,” I start. “Never did answer my question. _Was_ it the best blowie you’ve ever had?” 

His eyes are flitting around my face, and he’s laughing, and then his face crumples, the laugh turning to...not quite a sob, but close enough.

“ _Hey,_ ” I start. (I’ve no idea _where_ to start.) I reach for him, because reaching for him’s easier than trying to find the right words. He lets me pull him close, thank fuck. “Hey, I’ve got you,” I whisper. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

He breathes deep, and I pull back, pushing his hair up and out of his face. “Whatsit, darling?” (I don’t want to ask. I’m afraid of the answer.)

He shakes his head. “Nothing just now,” he says, and it feels like a thousand kilos’ve lifted off my shoulders. “I think it’s just...left over.”

I take his face in my hands, and he lets me kiss him. Once. Twice. He holds on to one of my wrists as I do it. 

“You a crier after sex, then?” I ask when I pull back.

He snorts. “Fuck you.” 

“I mean, I know I’m good. But I’ve never brought anyone to tears before—”

“I fucking hate you.” 

I nudge him with my whole body. “You love me,” I say.

And then I realise—

 _Fuck,_ I realise—

“Yeah,” Niall says. “Yeah, I do.” 

"What."

"This whole thing." His voice is wet, but it's not sad. "This whole thing...it's been terrifying. And it's because it _means_ something."

I think my heart's made its way into my throat somehow.

"And what's that?" I ask. I can barely get the words out.

"That I love you."

I'm suddenly glad it's a bit dark.

I've spent the last few days thinking…

Well, I've spent the last few days _drinking,_ actually. Trying _not_ to think that he…

That it's all been a farce, I guess. That he made a mistake. That _I_ was the mistake. That maybe he figured he'd rather try to be with me than tear us apart. Because he’s literally the best person in the world. Or something stupid like that, I don't know.

I've read him all wrong.

My eyes are all prickly. I didn't know I had the capacity to cry as much as I have the last— _what?_ —thirty hours, and it's fucking bollocks but at least he's still here.

Maybe it's still just the alcohol. That's a depressant, isn't it?

Oh my fuck, I need to say something. I've not said anything.

"Well," I start, and my stupid voice is all wobbly, damn it. " _Well,_ Niall, darling." I prop myself up, looking down at him. I can see the freckles scattered across his nose, even in the dark. "I love _you._ "

He breathes in deep, his eyes soft. And when I bend down to kiss him, his lips are soft, too. (And swollen from all the snogging.) He presses one broad hand against the back of my neck, pulling me closer, opening his mouth under mine. 

Love. _Love._

That's what feels so goddamn big.

It's hard to hold it all. 

Niall hums as I pull away. And then a little more when I press myself against him, nestling my face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

He's going to have to go home, and I don't want him to. 

I've never wanted him to leave.

"I love you," I say again. To try it out. Because it's true. Fucking _wild_. "You know what sealed the deal?"

"Hm?"

"When I felt your massive dick."

"Oh my fucking God, shut _up_."

"S'like I _felt_ it, and my heart grew ten sizes—"

"I take it back," he says.

"Nope. Too late for that, darling; you're stuck with me now."

I find the edge of my blanket, pull it overtop the both of us, then huddle in close. Drape one arm across his middle. Just listen to him breathing.

Wipe my eyes, _fuck._

He wraps an arm around me, his hand catching right at the dip of my waist. It's a bit different, but it's _good._

I close my eyes and breathe him in. I can feel his heart beating…

Fuck, I'm such a _sap_.

"Also it's not that big," Niall says after a mo.

I move my head against his chest until I'm looking up at him. Or looking at his chin, I guess. "Maybe not to you; you've grown up with it. How would you ever know what a gift you had waiting to be unwrapped?"

A laugh gets caught in his chest. "You're awful."

"Darling, just accept it. You're well hung. I literally cannot believe I'm trying to talk you into believing you've got a big dick." I settle my head back where it was as he huffs. I can feel him shaking his head against the pillow.

"D.," he says into my hair. "You don't have to do that."

"What."

"You do that, when you're feeling a lot," he says. "You joke around, yeah? And I'm just saying...it's just me."

"I'm not joking. It's massive—"

" _No_. I mean you don't have to put on a show for me. It's alright."

I think I know what he means. It’s a bit of a relief.

"I feel like…” I bite the inside of my mouth. I _am_ feeling a lot. It’s hard to tell where to start. I breathe, in. Out. Then, “Like yesterday was some sort of fever dream and I'm never going to recover from the actual fever."

Niall chuckles low in his throat, but he tightens his arm around me, too. "You Grimms and your dramatics,” he says.

"Oh, you know,” I say. “Runs in the family. That and good looks.” 

He’s stroking his fingers up and down my arm. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt something so good in my life. (Barring the obvious, very recent developments.) 

I close my eyes and try to put everything that happened yesterday behind me. I think it might take a while, but it’s not so bad. Fuck knows it could be worse…

And at least Niall’s here. 

“Niall?” I say. I don’t open my eyes.

“Yeah?” His fingers are still trailing up and down, up and down my arm. 

“What'd you put.” Maybe I shouldn’t ask. But... “What’d you put in the fire the other night?"

He sighs, and stops what he’s been doing. The ghost of his touch is still tingling along my skin. 

I’m starting to think he’s not going to answer me, that’s how long it takes him to say it. And when he does, it’s the slightest whisper in the dark. 

"That I was afraid of what I want.”

“Well, darling,” I whisper back, tightening my arm around his waist. “I suppose that makes two of us.”

  
  


**NIALL**

We’re quiet for so long I almost think Dev’s fallen asleep. But of course he breaks the silence.

"Baz's gonna be so hacked at us," he says into my neck.

"Baz isn't going to be anything,” I say, “because we're not going to make an announcement." I _know_ Dev; there _will_ be an announcement. But I can try to rein him in, anyway.

"Darling, if you think I'll be able to go five minutes without touching you now, you're not quite as intelligent as previously believed.” He lifts himself up to look at me, scrunches his nose. “Sort of lowers your appeal, to be honest.” 

“Oh?” I have to keep myself from laughing. It’s true what I said: he doesn’t have to put on a show for me. That doesn’t mean the humour doesn’t _do something_ for me, no matter how completely ridiculous. 

He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at me. “Well. The shoulders and the huge cock really do level things out, I’ll give you that.” Then he shuffles up in bed, lying back down and nestling his face next to mine on the pillow. “Also Baz has more than two brain cells. He'll figure it out as soon as I tell him to pick us both up here."

“Here?” I say. I don’t _want_ to leave _—_ of course I don’t _—_ but _staying_? Like this? “D., I should go _—_ ”

"Stay. Please.” His voice is so soft, I barely know what to do with it. 

I use my foot to nudge his leg beneath the blanket. "D…."

"My parents know,” he says. He sounds adamant. As adamant as a whisper can get, anyway. “And I'm an adult, anyway."

"But this is their house." _Their_ house. His mum was lovely about it last night, but I know his dad’s been...not unsupportive, but not _lovely,_ either. I’ve not even seen Mr. Grimm since the Christmas Eve party at Baz’s parents’. It seems idiotic to surprise him in the middle of his morning tea.

"They've never had a problem with you staying here before,” Dev says.

I sigh. "I wasn't having sex with their son before." _Fuck,_ but it’s hard to have a conversation in whispers. I really don’t know what I was thinking with all of this. (I don’t _regret_ it, not in the least. But I don’t know what I was thinking.)

Dev’s lifted his head up to look me in the eye again. " _Stay._ Or take me with you to yours; I don't care. I just.” He sighs at me. It’s the most dramatic sigh I’ve ever heard. Or seen. “I don't want to sleep without you."

I almost laugh, but my heart clenches, too. " _That_ is a load of romantic tosh."

"Yeah, well.” He shoves me in the shoulder. “It's true tosh, you dick."

He’s not going to budge on this. I can either face it, or we can keep arguing about it until I leave. 

I don’t _want_ to leave.

 _Breathe._ Two. Three. Four…

I turn my head until we’re face to face against his pillow. “What do we tell them, then?” I ask. “In the morning?”

“You drove over really early to get a jump-start on our Hayling trip.” 

“Dev _—_ ”

“Technically not a lie. But also…” He shrugs, even lying down. “I don’t wanna lie. No _announcements_ or anything. Just...you couldn’t sleep. You came over. We watched _Empire._ ”

I stare him down. It really is amazing how adaptable human vision is in the dark. He’s lying there on his side, one arm tucked beneath his head. His hair’s a rumpled mess. Bare chest, bare shoulders. Completely naked beneath this blanket, I remind myself. (I don’t need the reminder, not in the least.) “ _Are_ we going to watch _Empire_?” I ask. 

“Can I be honest?” 

“Yes?”

“Sort of want to put it on and, y’know. _Go again._ ” 

I give him a look. "Are you even more into _Star Wars_ than _—_ "

"I don't have a fucking _Star Wars_ kink, if that's what you're asking. Though out of all the possible kinks, that _could_ be good. _What if I popped a stiffy every time a droid made a noise_?"

" _Stop—_ "

"Anyway, it's for a little light. Set the ambience, get you in the mood? That sort of thing? And like, noise to cover for you when you can't hold in your moans of ecstasy."

I scrub one hand over my face and close my eyes. I'm more concerned with not being able to control my laughing than my _moans of ecstasy._

Dev prods me in the shoulder. "So? What d'you say, darling?"

I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t fancy another orgasm. And if I’m staying…

“ _Once,_ ” I say. “Then you can loan me something to sleep in? The last thing I need is for your mum to find me starkers.”

“One, can we please not talk about us shagging and my mum in the same sentence? That’d be much appreciated. Second, it’s not like she’s going to come in here _—_ ”

“ _Still_.”

“ _Fine._ ”

“ _Once._ ” 

“How d’you know you won’t be begging me for more once we’re done?”

I roll my eyes at him while I feel around for the remote. “Shut _up,_ ” I say, and I’m glad to see him grinning at me when the telly comes back on. 

He’s kissing me before I can say anything else, and laughing against my lips as I roll on top of him. His hands are in my hair, moving over my neck, my shoulders, _everywhere_ as I kiss him beneath the hinge of his jaw. At his neck. His collar. Chest…

He jumps when I take one nipple gently between my teeth. “What’re you doing, darling?” he asks. _Sighs._

My heart is hammering in my chest, but I’m smiling against his skin. “You’re about to find out,” I tell him.

And then I keep making my way down.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y’all enjoyed this time spent with Dev & Niall even a fraction of the amount that I did. (This is pure self-indulgence, but also writing it helped me write chapter 18, too. So...maybe it was essential self-indulgence, who knows.)
> 
> ANYWAYYYY I made these two a super tiny playlist that I listened to while writing/thinking about them. Y’all can [find that here.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2fMIpM544y6XTNlFC7SC1a?si=5FWR258XTzSS-5AWTbzrAg)
> 
> Also if you somehow read & found this fic without reading Between the Lines & you enjoyed it...maybe give the main fic a read? 💜👀
> 
> And as always, [I can be found over on Tumblr,](https://thehoneyedhufflepuff.tumblr.com/) usually just making a fool of myself.


End file.
